Gravity
by BlackxRose19
Summary: Anna is young and Elsa is a mess and it isn't fair to Anna to let her waste her whole life waiting around for Elsa to fix herself. Elsa/Anna


**A/N:** This was actually written about four years ago, before _Exhume_ (and all my others Hans/Elsa stories).

This is also for the 1sentence Community at LiveJournal; this is theme set Epsilon.

Warnings: This is Elsa/Anna, as sisters and otherwise. Contains a couple mild references to self-harm. Contains grammatical abuse and a lot of commas.

 _Italics_ are dialogue, most of the time.

[Safe - Sudden - Eye - Mad - Ghost - Fool] is meant to be read as a sequence.

* * *

 **.motion.**

By now, Anna's learned to recognize the signs, the miniscule changes in her sister's body language that indicate that she's about to break: the wringing of her hands, fingers that nervously card through her hair, the slight hitch in her breath when she whispers, _Go away, Anna,_ and the grateful expression that flits across her face when Anna ignores her plea and comes in anyway.

 **.cool.**

Elsa's hands are like ice, sliding around her and drawing her closer, fingers twisting in the hair at the back of her neck, but when her sister draws her earlobe into her mouth, all teeth and tongue and _oh god how is her mouth so hot,_ she shivers for an entirely different reason.

 **.young.**

Anna is young and Elsa is a mess and it isn't fair to Anna to let her waste her whole life waiting around for Elsa to fix herself.

 **.last.**

The last Christmas they have together, Elsa shrugs off Anna's pleading request to go play dolls with her- _One looks like me and one looks like you, Els! See?_ \- chooses to retire to bed early with the new book she's been given, and snaps at Anna when whatever game she's playing with her dolls grows too loud, causing the younger girl to slink out of the room with tears in her eyes; if she had known that she'd spend the next thirteen Christmases curled into a ball, listening to her sister from behind her closed door, she would've shoved that stupid book aside and played with Anna all night long.

 **.wrong.**

Elsa won't answer when she knocks, won't respond to the pictures and the toys and the chocolate that she's attempted to shove through the crack under the door, and when she asks Mama and Papa why Elsa hates her, they don't correct her like she thinks they will, choosing instead to smile sadly and tell her to go play; eventually she just stops trying, because she just wants Elsa to be happy and if Elsa is happy hating her, then she can try and live with that.

 **.gentle.**

Elsa grabs her hard by the hips, shoves her knee in between Anna's thighs and swallows the younger girl's moan by slamming their lips together, bruising and biting, drawing Anna's lower lip into her mouth and sucking and Anna whimpers, digs her nails into Elsa's back, feels Elsa's teeth move to her jaw, her neck, her lips sucking a bruise against her pulse, and she laughs through her pleasure because Elsa is usually so soft and so calm and this is _so fucking hot_.

 **.one.**

Anna turns towards her, swipes her hand across her bangs in a classic show of nervousness, and Elsa catches a glimpse of the white streak among the copper, the one thing that her sister can brush off with a laugh – _I was kissed by a troll!_ – but that will always remind her of her mistake, of what she lost, of why Anna needs to _stay away._

 **.thousand.**

She feels the panic crawling up her veins, takes a deep breath to fight the tears pricking in the corner of her eyes, ( _conceal don't feel conceal don't feel_ ) and begins to count backward from a thousand ( _it'll help, Elsa, I promise_ ), but she's only at 950 when the floor begins to freeze under her feet; by 890, she's wrenching the door open and stumbling blindly down the hall; by 845 she's bursting into Anna's bedroom, and by the time she reaches 800, she's clinging to her sister like a lifeline, muffling her sobs into the juncture of Anna's neck and shoulder as calm, gentle fingers stroke up and down her back, _it's okay it's okay it's okay._

 **.king.**

Their father makes a small innocuous comment one night at dinner, not long before the perilous trip that will cost both he and his wife their lives, about how it's high time Elsa begin looking for suitors; Elsa reddens, but the protest that is beginning to form on her lips is interrupted by the sharp, loud clang Anna's fork makes as she drops it on her plate, shoves her chair hastily away from the table, and dashes out of the dining room, leaving her parents and sister in stunned silence.

 **.learn.**

 _Well, Anna's allergic to roses,_ is Kristoff's answer when Elsa asks why he's standing in the hallway, holding a bundle of daisies, and Elsa pales and realizes just how many things she still doesn't know about her own sister.

 **.blur.**

Anna's always been very open with her affection, and maybe Elsa finds her sister's fingers intertwined with her own a little too often, and maybe the hug Anna wraps her in is a little too tight, and maybe the goodnight kiss Anna gives her is planted a little too close to the corner of her mouth, but this is Anna, this is what she does, so Elsa hides the blush that works its way across her face and tries not to think about what this all may mean.

 **.wait.**

She waits out in the hall with Gerda and after what seems like _forever_ , her father comes out, takes her by the hand, and leads her into the room, picking her up and setting her on the bed so she can have a look at the squishy little bundle in her mother's arms; the baby is red and ugly and loud and she wrinkles her nose and wonders why she waited so long for _this_.

 **.change.**

She sees Elsa sparingly over the years, on special occasions and in brief glimpses when a blue blur will pass through her peripheral vision, so when she comes down to breakfast one morning to see her sister at the table, she feels her breath catch in her chest and wonders when her sister, _her_ Elsa, became this sad, thin, pale thing sitting before her.

 **.command.**

 _Get down on your knees_ , Anna snaps and then a hand grabs her braid and tugs _hard_ , forcing her to the floor in front of her sister who smiles, all teeth and pretty bruised lips, yanks her head forward with the hand still knotted in her hair, spreads her thighs, and whispers _Go ahead, and make it good._

 **.hold.**

It strikes her as morbidly, bitterly unfair that the first time she gets to hug her sister, the first time in thirteen years that she gets to lay a hand on her without fear of hurting her, is when she's cold and frozen, too far gone for Elsa to do any more damage than she's already done.

 **.need.**

Anna bites hard enough to draw blood, grabs her sister's wrists and pins them above her head, squeezing and squeezing until Elsa can swear she feels her bones grinding together; She begins to panic, seeks some way to shove Anna off if need be, but then Anna drops her head into the crook of Elsa's neck, hot tears falling from her eyes, whispers _, I'm not desperate, Elsa, am I? You love me, right?_

 **.vision.**

The trolls know, they always know, so when Kristoff comes to Pabbie in a fit of desperation and sighs, _Anna doesn't love me, does she?,_ he's not surprised when the only word that passes past the old troll's lips is a soft, solemn _No._

 **.attention.**

She tries many desperate things over the years in an attempt to get Elsa to notice her, and by far one of the stupidest things she ever does happens one winter; snow has cast a soft, thick blanket of white over the ground and she spends the entire day crafting an army of snowman in the part of the yard that Elsa can see from her bedroom window; her reward for this feat is an illness that keeps her in bed for days, but the small note that she finds on her pillow one morning that says _Thank you, Anna, they're beautiful_ in handwriting that is unmistakably her sister's makes the week-long fever worth it.

 **.soul.**

Anna has always taken for granted, even in the years they were apart, the fact that Elsa would do anything to protect her, but it's only when she sees her sister crumpled in a heap on the frozen fjord, sobbing into her hands, that she realizes that Elsa needs protecting, too.

 **.picture.**

 _I drew this for you, Elsa,_ a crumpled piece of paper is shoved through the crack between the door and the floor and as she gently climbs off her bed and pads over to it – she's learned to be quiet to avoid getting Anna's hopes up- the small voice continues with a whispered _, I'm sorry that you're mad at me,_ and she wants nothing more than to fling the door open, wrap her sister in a hug, _don't be sorry, you did nothing wrong, this is my fault, all my fault,_ but then the floor ices underneath her feet and her hands begin to shake and she takes the drawing without a word and leaves Anna standing in the silence.

 **.fool.**

 _God, Elsa, I love you, but you can be so stupid sometimes. I don't want Kristoff. I want you._

 **.mad.**

She yanks the book from Elsa's hands and throws it so hard that it flies to the other side of the room, blocks her sister's path as she stands to retrieve it, and then she is yelling, angry and hurt, _How can you be so selfish, Elsa?_ but she can see in her sister's face that this is going nowhere, that she doesn't understand what she's done wrong, and the confusion is Elsa's eyes makes Anna's anger fizzle out fast and then she is on the floor, whimpering, _Did you ever think that this isn't what I want?_

 **.child.**

Her breath leaves her lungs in a huff as Anna flings all her dead weight on top of her, smiling, _Elsa, the sky's awake, so I'm awake, so we have to play!_ and Elsa peeps one eye open, feigns annoyance for a total of five seconds, but then Anna's fingers are all over her, tickling her ribs, her neck, the soft spots on her hips and suddenly she's _wide awake._

 **.now.**

Fingertips snake across her leg and suddenly it becomes _very_ hard to listen to the dignitary in front of her, rambling about the price of grain or bread or _whatever_ , it doesn't matter, because Anna's fingers find the slit in her dress, crawl towards the apex of her thighs, and then she's _right there_ , and oh fuck it really doesn't matter how much grain we buy, let's buy it all; the sooner this meeting ends, the sooner she can have Anna _underneath_ her.

 **.shadow.**

Anna waves her hands around animatedly, relating her latest adventures with Kristoff, Sven, and Olaf and Elsa's lips quirk up at the corners, the ghost of a smile, but it's gone almost as soon as it came; she ducks her head before Anna can see, because she knows her sister thinks the world of her and she doesn't want Anna to know that it's still a daily struggle for her to be a normal human being.

 **.goodbye.**

She's never been good at farewells, has regretted every day for the last three years that her last words to her parents were a desperate plea for help, a plea that was brushed off with a simple _you'll be fine_ , and it kills her to think that the last thing she'll ever say to Anna, to her sister who means _everything_ to her, is an angry command to _go, get out, leave me alone._

 **.hide.**

Anna gasps and Elsa closes her eyes and braces herself for the inevitable disgust that will undoubtedly color her sister's voice the next time she speaks; instead, Anna grabs her cold, shaking hand, presses a gentle kiss to each and every one of the ugly white lines that create a map of failure against the pale skin of her wrist, and chokes against her tears as she whispers _I love you I love you I love you, Elsa._

 **.fortune.**

One day when they are very young a wizened old fortune teller takes their soft baby palms into her own gnarled hands, traces their fate lines and their head lines, examines their life lines and tells them how long they'll live, but when they ask her, in eager childhood anticipation, about their love lines, she simply looks back and forth between the two of them and shakes her head.

 **.safe.**

The last thing she wants is another man that Anna has just met coming to her and asking for her to bless their marriage, but Kristoff isn't Hans and he looks so sincere that the words _Yes, okay_ leave her lips before she can stop herself; later, she tries to keep herself from breaking by reminding herself that Kristoff can take care of Anna much better than she can, and doesn't Anna deserve the best?

 **.ghost.**

 _Anna_ , and now Elsa is kneeling behind her, rubbing her back, breath ghosting over her neck, _Anna, I know, I know this isn't what you want and I'm trying to fix this,_ the temperature in the room drops for a split second as Elsa sucks a shaky breath in between her teeth _, I know Kristoff will make you happy and I just want you to be happy, and I'm-_ but Elsa never gets to finish what will inevitably be an unnecessary apology, because Anna's arms are around her neck and Anna's lips are on hers and _what is going on?_

 **.book.**

 _Elsa?_ She knocks on the door, not expecting an answer, but it's late and she's lonely and apparently Elsa is too because after a short pause, a quiet _Yes, Anna?_ comes from behind the door, and Anna sighs in relief, hesitates before she sits on the floor, leans her back against the door, and whispers, _Will you read to me, please? It can be anything, I don't care…I just want to hear your voice._

 **.eye.**

 _Kristoff proposed_ , she mumbles, and Elsa nods, _I know_ , but she doesn't look up, keeps her focus firmly on her untouched plate of food, cuts her fish into pieces but doesn't eat any of it and after a few more minutes of stifling silence, she pushes back from the table, and stands up; _Congratulations_ , she says, but her smile is forced and she looks somewhere over Anna's shoulder and as she leaves the room, Anna sees the expression on her face crumble.

 **.never.**

Elsa is always so put together, so poised, that it's just so much _fun_ to see her come undone underneath Anna's fingertips, blush spreading across her naked, heaving chest, blonde hair splayed across the pillow, breath hitching, _F-fuck, Anna_ , as fingers press and slide and thrust between her thighs, a high, clear moan starting in her throat when lips trail a slick path down her body to join those fingers.

 **.sing.**

Anna sings Elsa to sleep on the nights when the nightmares are bad, she sings Elsa awake with silly little songs about building snowman, she sings under her breath as she seats Elsa between her legs and brushes through her hair, but by far her favorite song isn't one of her own, it's the pleased little hum Elsa makes in her throat when Anna kisses her, and she could listen to that on repeat for the rest of her life.

 **.sudden.**

Kristoff sneaks up on her, gets down on one knee, and exclaims _Will you marry me?_ before she even has a chance to say hello; they're in the middle of the courtyard, people are staring, this is by far the most unromantic thing she's ever experienced, and the proper reply, the _Yes, of course!_ that she should say dies on her lips, replaced by a question that Kristoff preempts when he beams up at her and says, _Don't worry, Elsa already gave me her blessing!_

 **.stop.**

Her brain fogs over before she can comprehend what's happening, ( _Elsa, her sister, her sister is pushing her up against the wall and kissing her, her sister is kissing her!)_ and by the time she snaps out of it, Elsa is already pushing away from her, swiping a hand over her lips and shooting her a look that is part fear, part disgust before turning on her heel and _running_.

 **.time.**

Anna stays up all night and sleeps all day; Elsa tries not to linger on the guilty feeling of relief that washes over her every time she comes downstairs for breakfast and finds the younger girl absent.

 **.wash.**

Elsa offers to wash Anna's hair, offers because it's the sisterly thing to do, but when Elsa presses a very un-sisterly kiss to the back of Anna's neck, the younger girl squeaks, her body's involuntary forward motion propelling Elsa into the tub as well, and the bath doesn't end very sisterly _at all._

 **.torn.**

She shoves her hands under her sister's back, searching for the buttons, the ties, the clasp, whatever keeps this damn dress on Elsa's body and when she can't find anything, she grabs the fabric and pulls, feeling it rip beneath her fingers, hearing Elsa's exasperated sigh as she mutters, _If you wanted it off, you could've just asked, Anna._

 **.history.**

 _I need to marry-_ (Then marry me, silly!) _Anna, no, you know no two queens have ever ruled together, it's-it's-_ But Anna just smiles and laces her fingers through Elsa's. (Then we'll be the first!)

 **.power.**

 _But I want to be the queen,_ Anna whines, and Elsa smirks down at her, huffs a laugh that turns into a moan as Anna presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh, bites, _C'mon, Elsa, it's called role-play. It doesn't count if you play yourself._

 **.bother.**

 _Wait, what?_ the catchphrase he's picked up from her slips out before he can stop it and she turns her face to him, flings her arms around Sven's neck in the most exasperated manner possible, sighs _Weren't you listening, Kristoff? I said I'm in love with Elsa!_

 **.god.**

She might've believed in God once, back when he was just a big powerful man in a story her parents would tell her before she went to sleep, but as she sits against the wall and listens to Anna cry, listens to her beg their parents _What did I do wrong, why does Elsa hate me?,_ she decides that there is no God, because no one would be cruel enough to condemn a little girl to an unending loneliness caused by her sister's stupid mistake.

 **.wall.**

 _I don't get it, Joan,_ and Anna's head makes a soft whump against the cushions as she throws herself on her favorite couch, wishing and waiting for the day that her favorite painting can talk back to her and listen to her problems; it's hard to bring your problems to Elsa when all your problems _are_ Elsa.

 **.naked.**

 _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just, the door was unlocked and I thought no one was in here and who keeps the door unlocked while they take a bath, I mean, that's weird, oh, n-n-not that you're weird, you're perfect, it's just I'm weird, this is weird, wait what?_ she babbles all of this uncontrollably while she tries to look at anything other than her sister, feeling her cheeks burn red from embarrassment, but then Elsa stands up, wraps her towel around herself oh so slowly, and smiles in a way that makes Anna wonder if the door was left unlocked on purpose.

 **.drive.**

 _How was I supposed to know that snapping the reins meant 'please go faster and run into a tree?!' Kristoff sure didn't tell me that!_ Anna pouts, and Elsa just laughs and tucks the covers up under her sister's chin, taking care not to bump the two new broken arms that Anna has recently acquired.

 **.harm.**

She pushes Anna off of her, chews the inside of her cheek to keep from crumbling under the hurt that flits across Anna's face, and babbles some excuse about _how this is wrong, we're sisters, you love Kristoff_ , because she's not good enough for this, she doesn't deserve Anna, and the only way to keep Anna safe is to hurt her; she's damaged their relationship irreparably before, one more time won't make much of a difference.

 **.precious.**

Anna always kisses her like she matters, cradles her face in her hands and runs her thumbs across the light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and when she's found, post-panic, kneeling in the splintered remains of her destroyed wardrobe, Anna's just as gentle, kissing her bleeding palms as she whispers, _Please don't ever do this again, Elsa, please._

 **.hunger.**

Anna like to tease, popping the truffles in her mouth deliberately and slowly, smiling as she sees Elsa squirm in her seat, greeting Elsa's very unladylike whine of need with a whispered _That's not a very queenly sound to make, your majesty_ ; when Anna's done tormenting her, she rewards her with a kiss that tastes like chocolate and something that is just so decidedly Anna and just like that, the discomfort is worth it.

 **.believe.**

Anna always looks at her like she's something special, like her magic is the most beautiful thing she's ever seen instead of a terrifying curse, and Elsa forces a smile and tries to ignore the monster in her head, the one that wraps its claws around her brain and whispers _you'll never be good enough for her._

* * *

 **A/N:** Ending on the happiest of drabbles...oh well. Thank you for reading!


End file.
